Viral
by curlybean
Summary: Dean was nine and Sam was five the day they jumped off the shed and Sam broke his arm. Here's the story of how that happened. Tag to the #thinman episode (S9E15).
1. Chapter 1

Viral

* * *

_This is based on the "Do you know what video would have gone viral if we still had it?" story that Dean told in the #thinman episode (S9E15)._

* * *

Dean didn't like to think of all the times he let his dad down. He had always tried to do what was expected of him, but from an early age, he found it hard to live up to the man's expectations. Most people would say that John's expectations were unrealistic for a fully grown man, let alone a small child, but Dean didn't see it that way. All he saw was his dad's disappointment, over and over again.

Disappointment in the way Dean did his schoolwork. Disappointment in the way Dean did his chores. Disappointment in the way Dean held his knife. Disappointment in the way Dean wasn't quick enough, or wasn't meticulous enough, or wasn't smart enough.

But, most of all, disappointment in the way Dean looked out for his brother.

Dean's watching out for Sammy started at a young age. Sam was barely two years old the first time John left his sons alone in some crappy motel room. He had only been gone for a few hours, but Dean wouldn't ever forget how scared he'd been in that time.

As they'd gotten older, John started leaving them alone for longer periods of time, much to Dean's dismay. He was only eight the first time they were left alone overnight. He remembered how much Sam had cried that night when the thunderstorm rolled in. The small motel room lit up with each lightning strike and the windows and door shook with each thunder roll.

Dean hated thunderstorms. He hated the way everything looked outside, all dark and shadowy. He hated how the rolls of thunder made his heart ache and how the sound of the rain pounding just outside the door set him on edge. Most of all, he hated the sound of Sammy crying for their dad.

John would always come home the next day with a bag of fast food for his boys, a six-pack of the cheapest beer he could find for himself, and an excuse for his eldest son on why he was later than he'd said he be. It was never enough, but Dean was getting used to the whole act.

Every so often, Dean would have to deal with some scary events on his own. Events where he'd have to do his best to watch out for his brother and also to keep everyone's suspicion off of the two kids that were too young to be left alone.

One time, they'd been forced to evacuate in the middle of the night because a fire had started on the far end of the motel they were staying in. Dean remembered waking up to the frantic yells outside their room and eventually, someone started pounding on their door. Looking over to the alarm clock, he realized that it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Sam was still sound asleep next to him, so Dean had to quickly wake his brother up and help him put on his shoes and jacket.

Once they were outside, Dean ushered Sam over to a large family that had gathered in the parking lot. They stayed on the outskirts of the family, not getting too close as to draw attention from the family, but staying close enough that others would think they belonged there. Dean held Sam for almost two hours until they were cleared to go back inside. And luckily, they made it back into their room without anyone noticing they were alone.

Another time, John didn't make it back from a hunt in time to pay for an extended stay in the motel. When the manager knocked on the door to demand his pay, Dean tried to ignore him, knowing that he wasn't supposed to open the door to strangers. Eventually, the man went away, but he returned that night, angrier and more intent on getting his money.

When Dean still didn't open the door, the manager inserted his own key in the lock and opened the door. By that time, Dean had ushered Sam into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. He knew that the flimsy door could be opened easily by the rather large man, so he quickly came up with a plan. Explaining to Sam that they were going to play a game of tag with the manager of the motel, he told his brother to run out of the bathroom, out of the motel room, and over to the playground just across the street, as fast as he could.

And Sam did just that. The manager- who by that time was yelling and screaming- kicked the door in easily. Dean had been ready for that, pushing Sam into the bathtub just in case. Once the door was opened, he yelled at his brother to run as fast as he could. Sam skirted under the man's arms and headed straight for the open motel room door, thinking that his brother was right behind him. But, Dean had stayed behind long enough to place a few well-aimed kicks at the man, hoping to keep him from running after them.

Dean's decision to do that allowed Sam to get away safely, but ended with him getting knocked around a bit before he was finally able to pull away from the man and join his brother at the playground. Once he was there, he grabbed Sam by the arm and ran towards the small copse of trees just to the north of the motel. Once they were there, Dean found a little niche between a few trees and settled down with his brother. They stayed there for almost four hours, cuddled up together in an attempt to keep warm. And, of course, because Dean wasn't about to let go of his brother.

Eventually, Dean heard the powerful rumble of the Impala pulling into the motel parking lot. Sam had fallen asleep leaning against his brother, so Dean gently picked him up and carried him back towards the motel. He had just made it into the parking lot when he heard his dad yelling loudly at the manager, demanding to know where his boys were.

The manager looked like he was about to start crying as he stood against the angry barrage of cursing and yelling that was coming from John. Dean almost felt sorry for the man. _Almost._

When he started to fear that his dad might actually hurt the manager, Dean hurried his steps and called out to his dad. John immediately stopped his tirade and turned to look at his sons, relief coursing through his veins at the sight of Dean hanging on to a still sleeping Sammy.

Dean hoped that that whole fiasco might make his dad realize that they shouldn't be left alone like that, but barely three weeks later, the man left again. At least, that time, he'd made sure that they weren't going to be evicted from their motel room for not paying.

Those instances of Dean caring for Sam weren't the ones that John Winchester remembered, though. He didn't remember the resourcefulness and cleverness Dean had shown the night of the motel fire. He didn't remember the courage Dean had shown the night he'd had to stand up to the manager so his brother could get away. He didn't remember all the nights Dean had calmed Sam when he was scared or taken care of him when he was sick.

No, John only ever seemed to remember the times that Dean failed.

The times that Dean didn't make sure his brother got enough sleep. Or the times he wasn't able to do his own homework or help Sam with some project, prompting a concerned teacher wanting to set up a meeting to discuss things. Or the times Sam had gotten hurt because Dean obviously wasn't keeping a close enough eye on him.

Dean knew that whatever he did wouldn't ever be good enough in his dad's eyes.

Which led to the night that Sam broke his arm and Dean had to get him to the hospital on the handlebars of his bike. The disappointment in his dad's eyes that night had almost been too much for Dean. The anger had been worse.

* * *

_June 1988_

School had been out for almost two weeks and Sam was already bored. Dean had taken him to the local library twice already, and the boy spent most of his days sitting inside the small house they were renting, reading book after book after book.

Dean was going stir crazy. He would never admit to being bored, because he was great as long as he wasn't having to go to school. But, he really would have loved to have something to do for a change.

The small house they were living in was on the outskirts of town and there wasn't much nearby. The nearest neighbor was almost a full mile away and happened to be a grumpy old man that would yell at them whenever they walked by his house. The old man obviously thought that Dean was a delinquent and had even voiced his concerns a time or two to John. John listened patiently, assuring the man that his boys were very well behaved, but the minute they got home, he would start lecturing then on what he expected and what would happen if they let him down.

Neither Sam nor Dean wanted to face John, if that ever happened.

For the first time in a long time, John was actually working a legitimate job in a local garage. They had been in the same small town for almost two months and both boys actually liked it there. Especially now that school was out for the summer.

While John worked, Dean was left in charge of Sam with very strict instructions as to what they could and could not do. They absolutely could not leave the property. They absolutely could not go swimming in the small creek. And they absolutely could not climb the large trees that surrounded the house.

Dean argued that there was very little left that they could do, prompting his dad to give him a list of chores to work on. Dean learned to keep his mouth shut after that.

It was with a sense of adventure- with a huge dash of boredom thrown in- that led the Winchester boys out to the small shed on the edge of the property that day. They had already been warned not to go inside the shed until John had had the chance to check it out, and for the most part, they'd abided by that rule. Dean's natural curiosity had him opening the door to the shed and looking in by the morning of the second day, of course, but his desire to protect his own hide had him refraining from actually going inside. But, he reasoned, too, that his dad never said they couldn't actually touch the building, which led them to their current situation.

Dean spent most of the morning trying to keep Sam entertained while being bored out his mind. He would argue that he could only play so many games of hide and seek without going completely crazy. And that there was no way he could really be expected to sit inside the house and read an actual book like Sam wanted to.

Instead, he grabbed one of the thin sheets that were in the closet by the bathroom, a safety pin from the first aid kit, the bulky video camera his dad had borrowed from another hunter, and his brother's hand before shimmying out the door with a plan. Sam, who was dressed in the hand-made Batman mask and cape his brother made for him for his last school Halloween party, followed eagerly.

"What are we doing, Dean?" he asked as he struggled to keep up with his brother.

"I'm bored, Sam. I gotta do something more exciting that watch TV while you read the same book over and over."

"Daddy's gonna be mad that you touched the camera."

"Dad's not gonna know, Sammy. Unless you plan on being a tattletale…."

"I'm not a tattletale, Dean!"

"Okay, then let's go, little bro."

Once they were at the edge of the property, Dean suddenly stopped running and put the sheet around his neck like a cape. "Since you're already dressed up like Batman, I thought I'd be Superman. What do you think, Sammy?"

"Really? You don't want to be Batman, Dean?"

"Nah. Today you can be Batman, little bro. But only for today, okay?"

Sam's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm feeling magnan…..uh… magnanimous, Sammy," Dean said, remembering the bonus word from his last spelling test that only one person in his class had gotten right.

Sam looked up at him in confusion. "What's that mean?"

"It means I'm feeling generous."

Sam grinned at his brother.

"But like I said, Sammy…. Only for today. Everyone knows that I'm Batman."

Sam giggled and followed his brother over to one of the tall trees nearby. "What are we doing, Dean?" he asked for the second time.

"_**We**_ aren't doing anything, Sammy. _**I'm **_going to do something really cool, though."

Sam watched as Dean moved directly under the tree and looked up. "Dean, Daddy said we couldn't climb the trees, remember?"

"I remember, but Dad's not here right now. He won't know, Sammy."

Before Sam could answer, they heard a voice coming from the fence near the property line. "He'll know if I tell him, boy," their old neighbor, Mr. Crenshaw barked. "And he won't be happy to hear what you're up to. You boys better behave yourselves or else."

Dean glared at the fence where he could barely make out the shape of the old man. Without saying a word, he grabbed Sam's hand and moved away from the trees.

"I don't like that man," Sam pouted. "Do you think he'll really tell Daddy?"

"We weren't doing anything. A guy can't get in trouble just for looking up at a tree," Dean answered irritably. "Come on, Sammy."

They continued walking to the opposite edge of the property, eager to get away from their grumpy old neighbor. A few minutes later, they stopped in front of the shed. Dean looked around until he found something that he could set the video camera down on. There was a rusted out, empty barrel on the side of the shed and Dean quickly moved it to the front of the shed. Once the camera was situated on top of the barrel, Dean made sure it was aimed in the right direction. Seconds later, he turned the camera on and then wasted no time in climbing up the stack of crates that were stacked against the side of the shed. Once he was at the top, he pulled himself up onto the roof. "Watch this, Sam!" Without another word, Dean held the cape out with his hands and jumped off the roof, cape billowing in the wind. A second later, he landed on the ground, rolling through the landing and jumping back up to his feet.

"Wow! That was awesome, Dean!"

Dean laughed out loud at the look of awe on his brother's face.

"You can fly, Dean!"

Dean laughed again and climbed back onto the shed. He had to admit that it did feel a little like flying and he loved the idea. Without another word, he jumped off again, landing a little harder, but still able to get back to his feet almost instantly. He looked around for Sam, feeling panic shoot through him when he didn't immediately see his little brother. Even more panic shot through him when he heard Sam call out his name and looked up to find his brother standing on the roof of the shed.

"Sam! Get down from there!" he yelled as he rushed forward. He wasn't fast enough, though.

"Watch this, Dean!" Sam grabbed the edges of his handmade cape and without a single second of hesitation, he jumped.

Dean couldn't do anything at all, but watch as his little brother plummeted to the ground, landing harshly with a loud thud. Running as fast as he could, Dean came to a sliding stop right next to Sam.

"Sammy! Sammy, are you okay?"

Sam looked up at his brother with a look on his face that nearly broke Dean. He could tell that the kid was in pain and just a few seconds later, Sam burst into tears. Dean tried to calm him down, but Sam was too scared and was in too much pain to do or say anything. All he could do was cry.

Dean immediately started doing what he'd been trained to do by his dad. He looked his little brother over from head to toe, quickly zeroing in on the fact this his little brother was holding his right arm close to his body. Dean looked the arm over and decided that it was more than likely broken. As he continued to talk to Sam, Dean took his faux cape off and started to rip it into strips. Once he was done, he looked back down to his arm.

"Hey, buddy…. You're okay, but I think your arm might be broken." With those words, Sam started crying even harder. "Hey, c'mon, Sam….. you're okay. I'm right here and I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

He could tell that Sam was trying to calm down, but it wasn't really working. Dean tried to take his brother's mind off of the fact that his arm was broken. He started talking about the book that Sam had been reading earlier and when that didn't work, he changed the subject to the birthday party that Sam had been invited to. This worked for a few minutes until Dean stood up.

"Don't leave me!" Sam yelled desperately.

"I'm not leaving you, Sammy. I'm just going to grab something, okay? I'll just be right over there." Dean pointed over to a small grove of trees. When Sam nodded his head slightly, Dean stood up and made his way to the trees as fast as he could. He was back within just a few minutes.

Sam, who was still crying, but seemed a little quieter, watched his brother closely. Dean wondered if the fact that his brother was so quiet meant that he was going into shock. He had learned all about that from his dad and knew that he needed to keep Sam talking, so as he stripped the two long branches he'd found from any sharp protrusions, he continued to talk to the boy.

He talked about anything that he thought might interest his little brother. Superheroes, cartoons, books, the time their dad took them to the small carnival that had set up in the grocery store parking lot. Sam didn't talk much in return, but he seemed to be listening to what his brother was saying.

"Okay, Sammy…. I need to put this on your arm, okay? I'll be really careful, I promise. And this will help make sure your arm doesn't get hurt anymore."

Sam didn't look convinced that what Dean was saying was true, but he trusted his brother. He stayed as still as he could while Dean placed the two sticks against the inside and the outside of his arm, anchoring them in place with the strips from the sheet/cape. When he finished with that, he place the splinted arm in a makeshift sling, settling it gently against Sam's chest. Once he was done, he looked down at his brother. "How does that feel, Sammy?"

"It hurts," Sam answered simply.

"I know it does, Sam, but it feels better now that it's in a sling, doesn't it?"

"A little," Sam agreed.

"Good." Dean sat back on his legs as he thought about what he needed to do next. He knew he needed to get Sam back to the house and call his dad. He just wasn't sure how he was going to do that without hurting Sam too much. "Hey, Sammy, do you think you can walk?"

Sam started crying again at the thought of walking and Dean quickly knew that wasn't going to work. "Okay, Sammy…. It's okay. I'll carry you, okay?" He really didn't know how he was going to do that without hurting his brother, but the only other choice he had was to leave Sam alone while he went back to the house and made a phone call.

And there was absolutely no way he was going to leave his brother alone.

* * *

Author's note: I was hoping to finish this in one chapter, but the rest is going to have to wait for chapter 2. This one got away from me a little, lol. Anyway, I just watched the #thinman episode and Dean's little story about this incident piqued my interest. I really wanted to spend some time on how this whole incident and the aftermath might have happened. It's always so much fun to play around with these little tidbits the show gives us of life growing up as a Winchester.

I hope you enjoyed this and I promise I'll finish this up soon. Hopefully by tomorrow.

Thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story.


	2. Chapter 2

Viral

Chapter 2

* * *

It took Dean a lot longer to get home because he was carrying Sam and trying as hard as he could not to hurt him in the process. At first, he thought he'd just give Sam a piggyback ride, but he learned too quickly that Sam would be in too much pain that way. The easiest way to do it was to put one arm under Sam's knees and his other arm under Sam's shoulders. Sam was able to hang on with his good arm while he kept his injured arm cradled against his chest.

By the time they made it back to the house, Dean had worked up a sweat and Sam was crying quietly from the pain. Dean struggled to get the door open, but when he finally did, he walked Sam straight over to the couch and laid him down, being careful not to jostle him too much.

"I'm gonna call Dad, okay?" Dean said as he walked towards the kitchen. Sam nodded his head and then leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Dean took one last look at him before he turned to the phone. He quickly dialed the number that was posted on a cork board under the phone and waited for someone to answer. His heart beat faster and faster with every unanswered ring and by the time he realized that no one was going to answer, it felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

He really didn't know what to do. He knew that his dad was working at the garage and he knew that sometimes they didn't hear the phone ringing if they were in the middle of some big job. _He'd just have to call back again in a few minutes, he figured. _

He could still hear Sam sniffling in the living room and knew that his brother was in pain and was scared. He quickly grabbed one of the ice packs out of the freezer and then grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with cold water, before making his way back to his brother.

"Here you go, Sammy. Just a few small sips, okay?" Dean held the glass up to Sam's quivering lips and tried to hold his own shaky hands as steady as he could. After a few sips, he pulled the glass away and set it down on the table. He then propped Sam's arm up on a pillow and placed the ice pack gently on top.

"Is Daddy coming home?" Sam asked quietly.

"He'll be here soon, Sammy. Don't worry, okay?"

Dean waited several more minutes and then went back into the kitchen to try calling the garage again. When he still didn't get an answer, he felt his own eyes fill up with tears. Sammy needed to go to the hospital and Dean didn't know what to do. He thought about calling Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim, but quickly decided against it, since they were too far away to do anything anyway.

After trying one last time and still not getting an answer, Dean decided to take matters into his own hands. He had to get Sammy to the hospital himself.

"Hey, Sammy…. How would you like to go on a bicycle ride to the hospital?"

"I don't want to, Dean. I wanna wait for Daddy to get home."

Dean hated to lie to his little brother, but he didn't feel like he really had a choice. "Well, I just talked to Dad and he's not gonna be able to get here right away. He wants me to take you."

"Really? I thought we weren't supposed to leave the uh…. the yard."

"This is a special occasion, okay?"

"But I can't ride my bike, Dean."

"No, but I can drive you on mine, Sammy. Remember how I used to ride with you on the handlebars before Dad brought home your bike?"

Sam's eyes widened when he remembered the lecture they'd gotten the last time they'd been caught doing that. "Daddy said we weren't supposed to do that, remember? That's why he found me my bike."

Dean was growing more and more frustrated. "Sammy, c'mon. We need to get you to the doctor. Your arm is getting really swollen."

Sam looked down at his arm and new tears jumped to his eyes. "Okay."

"Okay. But you're gonna have to stand up for a few minutes. Think you can do that for me?"

"I'll try, Dean."

Dean took the ice bag and tucked it inside the sling and then helped Sam to stand up. The boy swayed for a few seconds, but eventually stood up straight and steady. "There you go, Sammy! You're doing great. Think you can walk outside?"

"I-I think so," Sam stammered.

Dean led him slowly out the front door and over to the two bikes that were leaning against the side of the house. Luckily, the bike that they'd found stashed in the garage of the old house had been fixable. The day they'd found it, Dean and his dad had spent several hours changing the chains on the bike and filling up the tires with air. It was an old bike, but it worked well enough.

Climbing up on the bike and holding it steady between his legs, Dean turned to his brother. "Okay, Sammy. You're going to have to hold on with your good arm and keep your legs away from the tires, okay? You can lean back against me if you want to."

Dean awkwardly helped Sam up onto the handlebars, holding onto him around the waist until he settled. Once Sam felt comfortable, Dean slowly took off. It took him a few seconds to find his stride and adjust his balance so that Sam could lean back against him, but once he did, Dean was able to pick up speed a little.

Unfortunately, they had to pass in front of Mr. Crenshaw's house on the way. Dean hoped with everything he had that the man wouldn't be watching out his window, but he wasn't surprised when he heard the man yelling from his front porch.

"What are you boys up to? Where are you going? Does your dad know you're riding your bike like that?"

Dean ignored the man and kept on pedaling, hoping to get away from him quickly. By that time, Mr. Crenshaw had walked out into his driveway and was yelling as they pedaled past. "Wait till your dad hears what you boys are up to! I bet he'll tan your hides for that!"

Dean continued to ignore the man and eventually they could barely hear what the man was saying. Dean really had no idea how far away the hospital was, but he tried not to think about it. He knew that it was past the library, so he just rode in that general direction. Eventually, once they passed the library, he stopped pedaling and asked an older woman that was waiting for a bus. With her directions in mind, Dean pedaled away as fast and as safely as he could.

* * *

It didn't take Dean long to find the emergency room entrance. He followed an ambulance that pulled in ahead of him and easily found the walk-in entrance. Once Sam had gotten down from the bike, Dean leaned it up against the side of the hospital. He knew he was taking a chance that it would get stolen, but he didn't care. _Sammy was hurt and he had to take care of him._

The ER waiting room was half full of people who all turned their heads towards Sam and Dean when they walked in. Dean slowly led Sam up to the window and waited for someone to help him. It was almost a full two minutes before someone noticed the two boys waiting at the window.

"Hi, there. Can I help you?"

Dean looked up at the young woman that was staring down at them. She looked friendly enough, but Dean was still on edge. "My brother hurt his arm," he said simply as he looked down at Sam.

The young woman looked around the waiting room, obviously looking for whoever brought the boys into the hospital. "Where are you parents?" she finally asked.

Dean didn't bother to answer that question. "He fell and I think he broke his arm. He needs to see a doctor."

"Are you here alone?"

"Please, can you get a doctor to look at Sammy's arm? It's really hurting him."

The young woman finally looked down at Sam and the expression on her face softened. "Of course. But first, I need to know his name."

"It's Sam."

"Okay, and does Sam have a last name?"

Dean's face paled. He couldn't remember what name they were supposed to be using and he suddenly felt panic filling him. He had no idea what to say to the woman. Unfortunately, Sam did, though.

"My last name is Winchester," Sam said in a soft voice. Dean groaned.

"Sam Winchester," she repeated. "And how old are you, Sam?"

"He's five," Dean answered before Sam could say anything more.

The young woman was writing something down on a piece of paper. Once she was done, she instructed Dean and Sam to have a seat in the waiting room. Dean started to argue, but decided against it when another ambulance screeched into the ambulance bay. Instead, he led Sam over to a seat in the corner and sat down next to him.

It was almost a full hour when they finally called Sam back to a treatment room. Dean followed and when they tried to tell him that he had to wait in the waiting room, he informed them, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be leaving his brother's side. The nurse quickly learned that it wasn't a battle worth fighting at the moment and let Dean follow them.

Once inside the room, Dean pieced together the story they were telling as carefully as he could. He was relieved to see that the doctor was more concerned with examining Sam's arm at the moment than with why two young boys were in the emergency room without a parent or guardian. He knew those questions were coming soon.

After the doctor examined Sam's arm, he ordered an x-ray. They came and took Sam to the radiology department fifteen minutes later, making Dean stay in the ER room and wait for them to return. Luckily, the x-rays didn't take long and before Dean could really start to panic, Sam was wheeled back into the room. Dean could see fresh tears in his brother's eyes and he immediately grew angry.

"What happened?! Why is he crying again?" he demanded to know.

The nurse was attending to Sam, while the doctor addressed Dean. "Nothing happened. We had to take the splint off to do the x-ray, so it was just a little uncomfortable. He'll feel better soon." The doctor sat down in a chair next to where Dean was anxiously pacing. "Dean, your brother's arm is indeed broken. He's going to need a cast. So, I need... Dean, I need to talk to your parent or guardian."

Dean's eyes filled with tears suddenly, and he wiped at them angrily. "My Dad's at work. I tried to call but no one answered the phone, so I just brought Sammy here myself.

"You walked here?"

"No, sir. We rode on my bicycle. Sam did real good holding onto the handlebars with one hand."

The doctor gave Dean a small smile and then turned his attention back to Sam and the nurse. "Beth, can you splint that arm for me? And maybe we can give Sam something for the pain? How does that sound, Sam?"

Sam nodded his head but didn't say anything. Dean, on the other hand, jumped forward and grabbed the nurse's arm. "Wait! He's allergic to morphine! You can't give him any of that, okay?"

"We'll give him something else, Dean. Thank you for telling us that. Is he allergic to anything else?"

"Peas…" Sam quickly answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're not allergic to peas, Sammy. You just don't like them."

"I _am_ allergic to them, Dean. They make me throw up, remember?"

"That's just 'cause you don't like them, Sammy. But don't worry…. I'll make sure they don't give you any peas while you're here, okay?"

The doctor and nurse couldn't keep from smiling at the conversation. Sam gave the nurse a smile that was sure to get him anything he wanted and then he sat back and watched as she put another splint on his arm. Once she was done, she stepped out to get Sam some pain medication.

"Well, gentlemen… I really need to talk to your mom or dad. Can you give me their number?"

Dean recited the phone number to both the garage and to the house and then watched as the man stepped out of the room to make his call. Sam, who was now leaning against the headboard of the bed he was in, looked worriedly at his brother. "Is Dad gonna be mad 'cuz I got an x-ray? He said x-rays were expen…. Uh, he said they cost a lot of money."

"Don't worry about Dad, Sammy, okay? He's not gonna be mad at _you_."

Dean didn't have to say it out loud, but they both knew that he was the one that John would be mad at.

* * *

It was almost five-thirty when John finally left the garage. They'd had a busy day, working on several cars whose throaty growl would have been stiff competition against that of his Impala. All in all, his ears were ringing slightly.

He stopped off at the pizza place, knowing that the boys would be hungry when he got home. With the front seat of the Impala filled with pizza, pie for Dean, soda for the boys, and beer for him, he turned around and headed home.

The first thing he noticed when he drove towards the house was their grumpy old neighbor, walking down the long driveway that led to the front door. John slowed down a bit and pulled up to the garage. He also noticed that Dean's bike wasn't leaning up against the garage next to Sam's.

"That boy better not have left Sam alone to ride his damn bike," John growled as he got out of the car. He wasn't excited to face Crenshaw, but he knew there wasn't any way to avoid it. "Good evening, Mr. Crenshaw. What brings you over this way?"

"I thought you ought to know what those hooligans of yours were up to this afternoon."

John's face darkened at the idea that Dean and Sam had been "up to something." They knew better than to misbehave when he was gone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was out walking my property line this afternoon, making sure that nothing suspicious was going on, when I saw your boys. They looked like they were up to no good, if you ask me."

"What were they doing?" John asked, already tired of the conversation.

"Your oldest…. He was looking up at the trees and I could tell that he was getting ready to climb one of them."

"Dean knows better than that, Mr. Crenshaw."

"Does he?"

John fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Did you actually see him climbing the tree?"

"No, but I can assure you he was planning on doing it until he saw me."

"Okay, well I'll have a talk with him tonight. Thank you, Mr. Crenshaw."

"Wait!" the man called out, halting John in his step. "That's not all. I saw them this evening, riding that bike out on the road."

Now, John could feel his face reddening. "They were off the property? Both of them?"

"Oh, yes. Your oldest was pedaling the bike and your youngest was riding on the handlebars. I tried to talk to them, but they both ignored me. They were being quite rude, if you ask me."

John was so angry that he was finding it hard to speak. "If you'll excuse me, I have some things to attend to."

Mr. Crenshaw stepped in front of John before he could leave. "You know, back in my day, a boy misbehaving like that earned himself a trip out to the woodshed. Maybe that's what your boys need, Mr. Winchester. A firm hand."

John stepped around the man and headed towards the house, hoping that Sam and Dean would be inside where they were supposed to be. "Goodnight, Mr. Crenshaw. Have a good evening." He didn't allow the man to answer before pulling the door open and stepping inside to an empty house.

He was on his second tour of the house, looking for his boys, when the phone started ringing. Rushing to the living room, he quickly picked it up, breathlessly greeting whoever was on the other end.

"Is this Mr. Winchester?" a soft voice asked. When John introduced himself over the phone, the man continued. "Mr. Winchester, my name is Dr. Bartlett. I'm an ER physician here at St. Charles Hospital and I've been treating one of your boys."

John felt his stomach drop and heart nearly stop at the man's words. "One of my sons? Which one? What happened?"

"Your boys showed up here about two hours ago. It seems Sam fell and broke his arm. We've x-rayed it and confirmed that it's broken and we've splinted it. He'll need to come back to our outpatient tomorrow for the casting process."

"He's okay? And my other son is with him?"

"He's okay, Mr. Winchester. And Dean hasn't left his brother's side."

"Thank you," John answered, relief evident in his voice. "I'm on my way and will be there in about ten minutes."

After hanging up from the phone, John quickly changed out of his work clothes and moved towards the door. He tried to calm himself, but he was equal parts relieved that Sammy was alright and angry that Sammy got hurt in the first place.

A little over eight minutes later, he pulled up in front of the emergency room and headed in to find his boys. He knew he was going to have to do a little bit of damage control with the staff, since it looked awfully suspicious that his boys had come in without an adult. He just hoped that no one got too nosy about things.

After signing in at the front desk, John was led back into the emergency room. Things were noisy and chaotic, but he was still able to hear the sound of Sam's laughter at the end of the hall. He had been expecting to find an upset five-year-old, so he was surprised by the sounds that were coming from the room.

Opening up the door as quietly as he could, he took in the sight of Sam and Dean sitting up on the small bed together. Dean had a rubber glove in his hands and was in the process of blowing it up and tying the end off. There were already several sitting on Sam's bed- some with crazy faces drawn on them- and Sam was giggling loudly at the odd assortment. Dean looked to be enjoying himself, too, and John was somewhat surprised by the carefree look on the kid's face. It wasn't very often that John got to bear witness to that side of his oldest son. _And didn't that just leave a giant hole in his heart._

It didn't take long for Dean to become aware of the fact that someone else was in the room and when he realized it was his dad, his carefree attitude took a nosedive. "Dad!" he exclaimed as he jumped off the bed and stood tall in front of his father.

"How's your brother?" John asked immediately.

"He broke his arm," Dean answered just as fast.

John stepped over to the bed and greeted Sam with a "Hey, Sammy" and a quick ruffle of his hair.

"Daddy!"

"You doing okay, Sam?"

"I am now," Sam answered. "Dean said I'm gonna get a cool cast on my arm, like he did when he broked his arm last summer. He said he'd draw a picture on it, too, but I told him he couldn't draw anything ina….um, inapro….uh….I told him he couldn't draw anything bad."

John took a few minutes to look over Sam's arm and then spoke again with Dr. Bartlett. An hour later, he picked Sam up and made his way out to the Impala with Dean following closely behind. Dean found his bike and loaded it up into the trunk of the car.

* * *

Once they got home, John carried Sam back into the house, leaving Dean to stay behind to get his bike out of the trunk. John settled Sam down on the couch and turned on the television, finding something suitable to watch. As he took care of his youngest, he kept one ear open, listening for the sound of Dean coming in. When the boy still wasn't in the house after about twenty minutes, John figured he was stalling for time.

Eventually, he heard the front door open and he watched as Dean slunk quietly into the room. Upon entering the living room, Dean's eyes went immediately to Sam, who was fixated on a Garfield cartoon. John could tell that the boy was worried about his little brother, but he was too upset with Dean for that to really matter.

"We need to talk," he said gruffly.

Dean's head shot up and his eyes flicked up to John's before moving away again. "Yes, sir."

John looked over at Sam, who was barely keeping his eyes open. "Hey, kiddo….let's get you to bed, okay?"

"I'm not tired, Daddy," Sam immediately argued, his words interrupted by a huge yawn.

"It's been a rough day, Sammy. And the doctor said you needed to rest, so take a nap and I'll wake you up when dinner's ready."

Sam knew there was no room for argument with his dad, so he didn't even try. But when John picked him up again and started to head towards the bedroom, Sam immediately asked for Dean, his voice shaking slightly.

"I'm right here, Sammy." Dean stepped over to his dad's side and looked up at his brother.

"Can Dean read me a story, Daddy?"

John really wanted to get to the bottom of how Sam ended up with a broken arm, but he knew it wouldn't take long for the kid to fall asleep. "One story, Sam."

Sam smiled and relaxed against his dad's chest. Once they were in the room that the boys shared, John settled Sam down on the bed, propping his arm up with an extra pillow. Once Sam was completely settled, Dean grabbed a book and climbed onto the bed next to Sam.

"Not that one, Dean."

"Which story do you want then?"

"You've already read them all to me a hundred times. I'm tired of them."

Dean was tired of them, too, so he wasn't about to argue with his brother. "How about if I just tell you a story then?"

"Okay."

"Okay…. Do you want a story about a snake that wanted to play hopscotch? Or a porcupine that wanted a hug?"

"The porky-pine, please," Sam laughed.

John smiled at the excitement on Sam's face and the look on Dean's face that showed how happy Sam's excitement made him. He knew that his next words were sure to knock the smile right off of his face.

"Dean, I'll be waiting for you downstairs." He didn't miss how quickly the boy's face fell at his words.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered quietly.

John paused at the door and listened as Dean resumed his storytelling. The last thing he wanted to do was dole out a punishment, but he needed to impress on the boy how important it was to keep Sammy safe.

_Nothing was more important than that._

* * *

Author's note: Well, I thought I'd tie everything up with this chapter, but it didn't happen. I'm thinking one more chapter ought to do it, but I'm heading to Michigan tomorrow. I still need to pack and try to get a little bit of rest, but I promise it won't be too long before I finish it. I'd love it if you all just waited a little bit longer.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you're enjoying the story. And I hope you all enjoyed the Season 15 premier tonight. . Such a bittersweet moment, right?


	3. Chapter 3

Viral

Chapter 3

* * *

_Warning: This chapter has mention of parental discipline in the form of spanking, though it's not detailed. Please don't read if this offends you._

* * *

Dean finished the "porcupine that wanted a hug" story and quickly moved on to the "snake that wanted to play hopscotch" story, even though Sam was pretty much already asleep. He knew he could only stall for so long, but he didn't care. He was already in a lot of trouble and if stalling gave him a few extra seconds of peace, then so be it. Eventually, though, he moved himself off the bed and made his way to the living room.

The first thing he noticed was his dad pacing across the room with a beer in his hand. Dean wasn't truly scared of his dad. He knew that the man wouldn't ever _really_ hurt him, but that didn't mean that he was looking forward to being punished. And he knew he was about to be punished.

There was a part of him that thought he deserved whatever he got, too, because if he'd made better decisions, his little brother wouldn't have broken his arm. Dean knew that he'd screwed up and he'd always been taught that it was better to own up to your mistakes and deal with the consequences. That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

Once his dad realized he was in the room, he stopped his pacing and motioned Dean over to the couch. "Sit down," he commanded at the same time.

Dean quickly moved over to the couch, sitting on the far edge, as far away from his dad as he could get. He sat stiffly against the back of the couch, not allowing himself to relax at all. John continued to stand in front of him and Dean could feel the man's gaze bearing down on him.

"Report."

John didn't have to say any more than that single word to get Dean to start talking. Dean knew that the man wouldn't put up with any more stalling or "hem-hawing," as Bobby called it.

"Sammy broke his arm and I tried to call you, Dad. But no one answered at the shop. I didn't know what else to do, so I took him to the hospital." His eyes never left the table in front of him until his dad's voice thundered in the room.

"Eyes up, boy." Dean's eyes immediately jumped up to look at his dad and when the man saw that he had his son's attention, he continued. "That's it? That's all you have to say about it all?"

"No, sir," Dean mumbled.

"Dean, I'm already running out of patience with you and we're just getting started. Do I need to remind you of what I expect when you're reporting to me?"

"No, sir. Um, Sammy fell and I figured his arm might be broken. I checked him out real good, just like you taught me, Dad. And when I saw that his arm was all swollen and fat already, I made a splint and a sling. I made sure that the splint wasn't too tight and I made sure that he kept talking to me the whole time. He was hurting a lot, so I picked him up and carried him home."

John was listening intently, but didn't interrupt. Dean took that as his cue to continue. "When we got home, I laid him down on the couch and put some ice on his arm. I tried to call you, but no one answered, Dad."

John looked a little guilty at that. "We were working on a car with a pretty loud motor," he explained. "We didn't hear the phone ring."

"That's what I thought. I was going to just wait for you to come home, but Sam's arm kept getting bigger and bigger. And he was really hurting. And scared. So, I knew I had to get him to the doctor."

Dean paused, rubbing his sweaty hands on the knees of his jeans. He wished that he could have a drink of water, because his mouth was suddenly really dry. But he didn't want to take the chance of making his dad think he was stalling. "I didn't know what to do, Dad. I thought about calling Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim, but they're so far away. And I thought about calling for an ambulance, but I remembered you said they cost a lot of money. So, I took Sam to the hospital myself."

"On your bicycle…"

"Yes, sir."

"How did you know how to get to the hospital?"

"I didn't really. I knew it was somewhere in town, so I just took off towards the library. I asked an old lady for directions and then I just found it."

"Mr. Crenshaw said that he saw you ride past. Why didn't you ask him to take you to the hospital?"

Dean made the mistake of rolling his eyes. "Because he's an assho…. um, I mean, he's mean."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, boy."

"Sorry," Dean mumbled.

"And watch your language."

"I didn't say anything," Dean argued.

"I know what you were about to say, Dean. So, watch it."

"Yes, sir."

"How did Sammy fall?" John asked.

Dean's heart sped up at the question. He had hoped that he could get through the story without having to tell that part of it, but he should have known that his dad wouldn't stop until he knew everything. The man was relentless. "Um….. he, uh…. he was just….."

"Spit it out, Dean. It's getting late and it's been a long day."

Dean sat up a little straighter and drew in a deep breath. "He was just doing what I did. And it's my fault, Dad. Not his. I should've been watching him better."

"Yes, you should've. But I still don't know what happened. What were you doing?"

Dean hesitated long enough to take a few deep breaths before continuing. "We went out to that old shed."

"And?"

Dean could tell that his dad was getting angrier, thinking that they'd gone inside the shed, so he quickly continued. "Sammy was wearing his batman cape and mask and I made a Superman cape for me. I told Sammy that I could fly like Superman and I jumped off the shed."

"Dean…."

"It wasn't that far of a drop, Dad. And you taught me how to fall and roll, remember? I didn't get hurt."

"But, Sammy followed you…."

"Yes, sir," Dean admitted in defeat. "I got back up on top of the shed and jumped again and when I landed, I didn't see Sam anywhere. I looked around for him, but he'd already climbed up onto the shed. I told him to get down, Dad, but he jumped. I thought he knew that Batman can't fly."

"You shouldn't have been up on the shed, Dean. I told you boys to stay away from it."

"You said we couldn't go inside it, Dad, and we didn't."

"And you thought I'd be okay with you jumping off the roof, did you?" Dean hesitated long enough for his dad to continue. "Or did you just think that I wouldn't find out?" When Dean still didn't say anything, John continued again. "I asked you a question, Dean. Not that I don't already know the answer."

"I knew you'd be mad if you found out," Dean reluctantly confessed.

"And yet you did it anyway."

"Yes, sir."

By this time, Dean was staring down at the table again, but John didn't call him out on it.

"What are we going to do about this, Dean?"

Dean's head jerked up in surprise, wondering why his dad was asking him that. John was never a man to ask for input before handing out a punishment."

"I don't know," Dean nearly whispered.

John started pacing again and Dean warily watched him for several minutes. There was a part of him that wished the man would just punish him and get it over with, but another part of him was still looking for a way to get himself out of trouble.

"I'm disappointed in you, Dean," John finally said when he stopped pacing. "I'd like to think that you knew better, but now I'm not so sure. I expected more from you."

Dean felt his eyes fill up with tears. He hated hearing his dad say that he was disappointed in him. He knew that the man was, more often than not, but to hear it said out loud was awful. "I'm sorry, Dad. I screwed up and I'm sorry. I know I should have been watching out for Sammy. It's my fault that he got hurt."

"Yes, it is. He's just a little boy, Dean, and it's your responsibility to look out for him when I'm not around. And it's your responsibility to look out for yourself, too. You could've been hurt, just as easily. What do you think your brother would've done if it had been you that got hurt? He couldn't carry you back to the house. And he would have been scared."

"I didn't think about that, I guess."

"I'd say you didn't think about anything more than the fact that it would be fun to jump off the shed. And you definitely didn't respect me enough to follow orders."

"I'm sorry," Dean said for what seemed like at least the hundredth time and he knew that no amount of "I'm sorry's" was going to get him out of trouble.

John rubbed a hand over his face and through his beard. "Okay, well, you're grounded for starters. You're in the house at all times, unless you're with me. It goes without saying that that bike of yours is a distant memory, too. Since Sam's arm is broken, you're responsible for his chores and I'll be tacking on some extras for you, too. If I can't find enough for you to do around here, I'm sure Mr. Crenshaw could use some help with something. You can also expect some extra training."

Dean barely held in a groan when his dad mentioned helping out Mr. Crenshaw. He definitely didn't want to spend any more time around their cranky neighbor than he absolutely had to. As he listened to the rest of his dad's list of punishments, he was starting to feel like maybe….just maybe…. he'd actually escape without getting a spanking. The next words out of his dad's mouth completely obliterated that thought, though.

"I need to make sure that you learn from this, Dean. When I leave you here, I expect you to be smart about things. I expect you to make sound decisions and I expect you to do what you're told. You know the rules. There's not a doubt in my mind that you knew you'd be in big trouble if I found out what you were doing. So what that tells me is that you don't respect me or my rules."

"But, I do, Dad! I respect you," Dean argued.

"No, you don't. But, you will. You'll at least learn to respect the fact that I expect my rules to be followed. I won't allow you to continue disrespecting me, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, then." John moved over to the coffee table and sat down directly in front of his son. "Stand up, Dean. You've earned this, don't you think?"

Dean stood up and seconds later found himself over his dad's knees, facing the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on what his dad was saying, but once the spanking started, he couldn't focus on anything but the pain.

* * *

John hated spanking his boys, but he did it when he felt it was necessary. He knew he wasn't ever going to win any Father of the Year awards and he knew that Mary would be completely disappointed with the way he was raising their sons. But he was doing the best he could. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

He knew that he placed way too much responsibility on Dean's shoulders and he wished that it didn't have to be that way. Of course, he knew that he didn't _have _to hunt, that he could settle down and get a real job somewhere, that he could just ignore the fact that there were evil things out there that killed innocent people and ruined innocent families. He knew that he _could _give his boys a better life.

But, he couldn't make himself do that. He couldn't stop hunting and ignore the fact that evil was everywhere. He couldn't get a real job and spend his evenings coaching his sons' soccer teams. He couldn't let himself worry about mortgages or leaky faucets or whether his boys ate nutritious meals. _He just couldn't._

So, he had to place those responsibilities on his son's shoulders. He had to demand respect and obedience. And when his boys screwed up- which they undoubtedly would- he had to punish them. It's just how it had to be.

Once he was done spanking Dean, he pulled the boy into a quick hug and then sent him to bed. He wasn't one to coddle his boys after punishing them, but he did want them to know that they were forgiven.

After giving Dean about ten minutes to get settled in bed, John made his way to the room the boys were sharing. Dean was already in bed, curled up on his side, staring at his brother. John could see the tears that still littered his face and he could still hear a few soft sniffles. He hadn't been inordinately hard on the boy, but he was sure Dean was still feeling a lingering sting in his backside.

"You okay?" he asked as he stepped into the room. He didn't miss the way Dean's body stiffened at his voice.

"Yes, sir," Dean quietly answered.

John walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, right next to Sam. "How's Sam?" he asked.

"He didn't wake up when I got in bed," Dean explained. "He's sleeping good, I think."

"Good." John watched Sam sleep for several seconds before looking back at Dean. "Think you can get some sleep?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Come and get me if Sam wakes up and needs something, okay?"

"I will, Dad."

John made his way to the door and was just about to leave the room when he stopped. Turning back towards the bed, he cleared his throat. "Dean, one more thing…." Dean looked over at his dad, nervously. "You messed up today, son, but you also did good taking care of your brother. You remembered your training and you got him to the hospital. I'm proud of you for that."

Dean didn't answer, but John noticed the way the boy's face seemed to light up just a little. Just as he was almost out the door again, he heard Dean's quiet "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, son."

* * *

Dean woke up the next morning, surprised to find that Sam was gone from the bed. Jumping up, he quickly made his way into the small kitchen to find Sam sitting at the table and John standing at the small stove. He could smell bacon and his stomach immediately started growling.

"Sounds like someone's hungry," John said with a laugh.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, immediately turning his attention onto his brother. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Sam said. "But Daddy made me take that yucky medicine, Dean. The one that tastes like yucky socks."

Dean laughed, remembering how his brother hated taking medicine. He hated it too, because their dad wouldn't spend the extra money to get the good flavored medicine, meaning that they had to take the nasty adult ones instead. "I bet you feel better, though, don't you?"

"Yeah! It only hurts if I move it," Sam answered.

"Well, don't move it then, dummy." Dean expected his brother to complain that he'd called him dummy, but Sam just started shoveling eggs into his mouth. Dean sat down at the table, too, and started eating. After they were done eating, John sent them into the living room to watch television, citing the fact that he had some research to do.

Sam and Dean had settled into the couch and were in the middle of a movie about penguins when John's voice thundered from the kitchen. "Dean Winchester, where the hell is my video camera?"

The boys looked at each other, quickly coming to the realization that the video camera was still outside where they'd left it. Sam looked nervously at his brother who was looking just as nervously at the man who was suddenly standing in front of them. They both knew they were in big trouble for messing with the camera and neither of them knew what to do next.

All three Winchesters were thinking the same thing, though. _Why did it seem like they could never stay out of trouble?_

* * *

Author's note: Well, there you go….. What was intended to be a one-shot is now a 10,000 word, three chapter story. That's what happens when you let the characters do what they want.

I absolutely love taking little tidbits from the show and expounding on them in my own way. I know my take on it might not coincide with your take on it, but I hope you found it enjoyable anyway.

Thank you so much for reading and for reviewing. You guys are amazing.


End file.
